The Five Times Stiles Knew He Wanted to Marry Lydia
by IrisStars
Summary: A five part mini-fic describing all the times when Stiles really wanted to end up with Lydia and be with her forever. This starts from childhood to where the tv show is currently! My plans for it might change depending on what the TV show does, but it's relatively straight forward. This is mainly Stydia with wingman Scott making a smart appearance and the other members of the cast.


_The Five Times Stiles Knew He Wanted to Marry Lydia_

1. That Time When Lydia Made All the Boys Scared Because She Wanted Stiles to be Happy With His Box of Crayons.

Stiles loved to draw and color. He was good at it, and the best thing was, no one would bother him. He could sit at the corner of the classroom, keeping an eye on everyone while drawing his magical universes and stick figures.

Best of all, he could keep a keen eye on a certain strawberry blonde-haired girl with pigtails and her girly blue dress. She was with a giant group of her friends, playing with their Barbies and giggling. Lydia was new to Stiles' second grade class, but she fit in like a glove and everyone wanted to be around her – especially Stiles. Everyone else was afraid of cooties, but not him. He wanted to talk to her all day and listen to her talk about what color dress she was going to put on her Barbie that day.

Sure, he didn't particularly _like _Barbies; he was a boy, but his 8-year-old heart couldn't help but stare at her while she giggled and felt the butterflies flutter in his stomach. He wanted to vomit because of the feeling, and he felt really funny because she was just so pretty and he would do anything to make her smile at him. She was so _nice_. Her hair bounced while she walked and Stiles wanted to follow her _everywhere_.

She looked up and caught him staring. He blushed and looked down, but couldn't help glancing up immediately afterwards. She smiled at him, grinning with her small white teeth. He smiled back and looked back at his drawing.

Stiles tried to get Lydia's smile right, but nothing could ever match her real face. A stick figure didn't do her justice. She was just too pretty, too _perfect_. He drew her with him in a field with green hills, and a giant sun who wore sunglasses. He was holding her hand in the drawing, and they were walking towards their happily ever after. He started drawing birds in the sky, along with fluffy white clouds.

He gazed across the room again, thinking of all the times he was so close to talking to Lydia. He could have talked to her on her first day, but all the girls wanted to talk to her first and pushed Stiles out of the way. She had walked into the classroom clutching her mother's dress, peeking from behind her. Then, she was whisked away with the girls, talking about toys and butterflies, and other weird girl things. He didn't know if he could ever talk about girly things, but for her, he was willing to talk about anything.

She raised her hand whenever Mrs. Lake asked a question, and she always knew the answer. Stiles liked that she was so smart. She was so pretty and so smart and so cool and he wanted to listen to her talk about numbers and letters all day.

Stiles' train of thought was ruined when he spotted his bully, Drew, come toward him. He had a mean look on his face, and immediately Stiles knew he was going to hurt him. He couldn't tell the teacher. Nobody tells the teacher. Plus, he knew that Drew was going to hurt him more if he ever told. Everyone would call him a tattletale. Then, nobody would ever talk to him or sit with him at recess or lunch anymore.

Drew smirked as soon as he saw Stiles' look of fear. He loved picking on poor, skinny Stiles. There was nothing like picking on a boy who he knew wouldn't fight back. He was much taller and had more muscle than Stiles, towering over Stiles' delicate frame.

"Whatcha got there, Stiles?" Drew asked, leaning down and sticking his face close up to Stiles'.

Stiles hid his paper away from Drew. He didn't want Drew to see his drawing. He would have shown everyone in the class, including Lydia, and he didn't want her to see it, either. He didn't want her to hate him, or think he was a freak.

Of course, he never actually really talked to her, unless they were put in a group together, but he wanted to. He didn't want to ruin the chance of ever being able to talk to her, especially because Drew made it that way.

"Who's that, huh? Do you want her to be your _girlfriend_? You're a bad drawer! She doesn't like you! You're ugly and weird, and you have no friends!" Drew yelled.

"Leave me alone!" Stiles cried.

"Yeah? What're you gonn' do if I don't? How you gonn' draw if you ain't gots your crayons?" Drew laughed. He snatched up Stiles' box of crayons and ran. Stiles started to cry and he put his head on the table.

Unbeknownst to Stiles, little Lydia had watched the entire thing. Her face turned into a rosy pink, thinking of how mean Drew was to Stiles. She had known who Stiles was before, the quiet boy who sat across the room from her. He liked to stare at her and smile. He was weird, but she kind of liked it. He wasn't mean like Drew, and didn't pull at her hair. She didn't like it when Stiles got picked on. Stiles was nice to her. He even told her that he liked her hair when it was loose and out of pigtails one time.

She pulled out her hair ties, and with her strawberry hair wildly flowing behind her, she ran to Stiles' table. His head was resting on it, his body heaving with shaky breaths. He was clutching a drawing in his right hand, stick figures holding hands. She took a closer look, and realized it was the both of them. She had a pretty pink bow in her hair, and the both of them were smiling and walking. He wanted to be her friend, she thought to herself. She hadn't even talked to him before, but she knew he was sweet, just like she heard her mother say to Mrs. Claudia one time after school.

"Stiles," she said softly, "are you okay?"

Stiles' head snapped up and he looked at her with red-rimmed, big eyes. He didn't say anything; he just stared at her in bewilderment.

"Don't worry, Stiles. I'm gonna get your colors back!" She declared, running after Drew.

"No, Lydia!" she heard Stiles call after her. He scrambled behind her, but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as Lydia reached Drew. He was laughing with his friends, the crayon box dangling from his dirty, pudgy hands. Lydia was so angry.

She tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked at her, she slapped his hands and grabbed his arm, digging her fingernails into it. He screeched in pain and reeled back, the box of crayons hitting the floor. Luckily, Mrs. Lake didn't see. Stiles' jaw dropped. Lydia just hit Drew! She did it for him! She was getting his crayons back!

Drew and his friends looked at her in fear, clutching each other for safety.

"You leave Stiles alone!" she yelled, grabbing the box off the floor. She flicked her hair behind her shoulders after doing so, muttering a small "hmph!" at the sight of the cowering boys. She made her way to Stiles, his mouth hanging open in amazement. He was leaning on the table just so he wouldn't fall over. Drew didn't even pull her hair! He was scared of her! He was a _scaredy cat_! Stiles knew it!

She walked past Stiles, grabbing his hand as she led him back to his seat. In her other hand, she clutched Stiles' crayons.

Once he sat down, she placed the box in front of him, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Th-Thanks, Lydia. Why'd you do that?"

"'Cause you're nice and hurt me or anyone else. Drew is a poop-head and you're _nice_. My mama says it's wrong to take things from other people."

Stiles smiled, but the moment was ruined when the other girls called Lydia from across the room.

She glanced over at them and screamed, "I'm coming!"

When she looked back at him, she looked at him thoughtfully.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"I like your drawing."

She swiftly turned away, her curly hair bouncing behind her as she raced to join her friends. He watched her leave, a large, face-splitting grin taking over his face.

Stiles wanted to be with her forever, just like his mommy and daddy were.


End file.
